


Style

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Haircuts, M/M, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'You’re supposed to cut your hair every couple months, you know.' Spirit cuts Stein's hair for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Style

“Stein.”

Spirit’s voice comes from just over Stein’s shoulder. The meister didn’t hear him coming, too lost in his work to pay attention to the sound of the weapon’s approach; if it were someone else behind him he would have been startled. But it’s Spirit, and Stein always knows where Spirit is, so he just smiles down at his book before tipping back in his chair to look up at the other man.

“What is it?”

Spirit is looking down at him, face blank with consideration, and as Stein watches his inverted features he reaches out to brush his fingers against the meister’s hair.

“When was the last time you cut your hair?”

“Huh?” Stein’s face creases as he considers the question. “I don’t know. Months?”

Spirit’s mouth curves into a tolerant smile. “You don’t think about it?”

“It’s not important.” Stein reaches up to tug gently at one of Spirit’s dangling locks and returns the smile. “For me, at least.”

“Mm.” Spirit is combing his fingers through Stein’s hair, pulling it back from the meister’s forehead. The motion is soothing; Stein shuts his eyes so he can feel the warmth of Spirit’s fingers tracing patterns against his scalp.

“Let me cut it for you,” Spirit says, and Stein smiles again without opening his eyes.

“If it will make you happy. Certainly.”

Spirit’s fingers pull free and the weapon reaches out to touch Stein’s wrist in the way he does now, like he’s reassuring himself of the meister’s presence and existence. Stein lets him; it’s a comfort for all that he’s a little surprised every time.

“Come with me.” The touch disappears, and when Stein sits up and opens his eyes Spirit is striding out of the room. “It’ll be neater if we do this in the bathroom.”

Stein gets to his feet and follows his weapon down the hallway to one of the lab bathrooms, this one with the new, better lighting that Spirit insisted on after a few weeks of fretting about the dimness of the room.

Spirit extends a hand as Stein comes in. “Give me your coat.” Stein shrugs the weight free and hands it over as Spirit continues, half to himself. “I’ll get a chair and a pair of scissors. Stay here.”

Stein does, sliding his hands into his pockets and watching as Spirit leaves. Then he turns back to his reflection in the mirror. It’s odd to see himself well-lit; the golden lighting of the new bulbs casts his skin into an almost healthy tone and highlights the corners of his mouth, which look a little like he’s about to smile even alone as he is at the moment. The shadows under his eyes are still there, of course, as permanent a part of his face as the color of his hair or the shape of his mouth, but he just looks tired instead of deathly as he used to.

“Here you go,” Spirit says as he comes back in, or tries to. He’s got a pair of scissors in his mouth so he can carry a chair with both hands, and it’s not until Stein steps aside so the weapon can set his burden down that he retrieves the obstruction from between his teeth.

“Sit down,” he commands, all half-joking authority, and Stein smiles and obeys without speaking so Spirit can come in behind him and eye his hair like he’s looking at a puzzle.

“Hm.” The weapon comes back forward to dig in a drawer until he comes up with a comb and returns. “Seriously, though,” he says as he begins drawing the tangles in the meister’s hair free gently. “When _do_ you think about getting a haircut?”

“When I can’t see anymore,” Stein says levelly. The pull at his scalp is gentle enough to be pleasant instead of painful, and he can see the focus in Spirit’s eyes in their joint reflection in the mirror. He can also see the laughter break warm over the weapon’s face, the way his blue eyes come up to catch Stein’s gaze in the mirror for a moment.

“How practical of you.” Spirit pulls a length of hair out straight and brings the scissors to take off some unidentified amount from the ends. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

Stein smiles but doesn’t answer. For a minute there’s no sound but the soft slick sound of metal on metal to accompany the pressure of Spirit tugging locks of hair straight and cutting them.

“When did you learn to cut hair?” Stein finally asks.

Spirit glances up again and pauses to smile before he looks back down at what he’s doing. “Maka didn’t much like sitting still to get her hair cut when she was little.” He punctuates with another snip of the scissors. “It was easier to just learn how to do it myself so we could do it quick at home.” He smiles self-deprecatingly without looking back up. “Though I screwed it up pretty badly the first few times. I thought Kami was going to kill me before I figured out how to do a decent job.”

He shifts sideways so he’s over Stein’s shoulder instead of behind him and the meister can watch him in profile. “I did my own, too, a couple times, but it’s a hassle to figure out the back when you can’t see it.”

“Easier if you’re less choosy about the style,” Stein puts in. He can see the smile pulling at the corner of his mouth in his reflection. “I just cut mine off before.”

“Oh god.” Spirit shudders dramatically. “All of it?”

“Most, at least.” Stein tips his head to the side so Spirit has a better angle. “It was easy and fast.”

“Thank god I got to you first.” Spirit brushes the newly cut strands back behind Stein’s ear. The contact is more lingering than it strictly needs to be. “I like your hair.”

Stein laughs. “I’ll take it into account.” Spirit comes around to the other side and continues to work while Stein goes on. “If you’ll cut it I’ll leave it to you.”

“Good.” Spirit is smiling although he’s not meeting Stein’s gaze in the mirror, too focused on his work to look up. “You should. At least one of us has a sense of style.”

Stein grins but doesn’t speak, and a few minutes later Spirit steps back to eye the meister’s hair critically.

“I think that’ll do it.”

Stein considers his reflection. He can see himself now, which is an advantage, although the difference in length is nothing like as dramatic as it usually is when he gets a haircut.

“You’ll have to do this again in a month or two,” he observes.

“Of course.” Spirit sounds offended that Stein thought otherwise. “You’re _supposed_ to cut your hair every couple months, you know.”

“Are you.” Stein turns away from their reflections and reaches out to pull Spirit in close so he can press his forehead against the weapon’s stomach and smile into the fabric of his shirt. “What would I do without you here to tell me these things.”

“Inflict awful haircuts on yourself,” Spirit says. Stein can hear the smile in his voice and feel it in the touch dragging through his hair. “You’d be lost, it would be terrible. Also you are getting hair all over my shirt.”

“Hm.” Stein pulls back. It is true, there’s a dusting of silver hair against Spirit’s clothes as well as the shoulders of his own shirt. “You’ll have to change, I guess.”

Spirit heaves a melodramatic sigh. “I guess so.”

“I need a shower myself,” Stein says, voice entirely flat of any tonal meaning. “We could multitask.”

Fingers drag through his somewhat-shorter hair, and when he looks up Spirit is smiling down at him. “Oo, _multitasking_. Go _on_ , you have my attention.”

Stein laughs, and gets to his feet, and presses a kiss against Spirit’s smile.


End file.
